1 Praise ye the Lord, my heart shall join In work so pleasant, so divine, Now, while the flesh is mine abode, And when my soul ascends to God.
2 Praise shall employ my noblest powers, While immortality endures; My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life and thought and being last.
3 Why should I make a man my trust? Princes must die and turn to dust; Their breath departs, their pomp and power And thoughts, all vanish in an hour.
4 Happy the man whose hopes rely On Israel's God: he made the sky, And earth and seas with all their train, And none shall find his promise vain.
5 His truth for ever stands secure; He saves th' opprest, he feeds the poor; He sends the labouring conscience peace, And grants the prisoner sweet release.
6 The Lord hath eyes to give the blind; The Lord supports the sinking mind; He helps the stranger in distress, The widow and the fatherless.
7 He loves his saints, he knows them well, But turns the wicked down to hell: Thy God, O Zion, ever reigns; Praise him in everlasting strains.